Kain's heart lept to his throat, clogging any words that might have escaped him. 

The silence left the office air still with heavy tension that seeped into his bones. 

It was unsettling how strong, how overwhelming the complex emotions flooding his chest were. Fear, anticipation, worry, curiosity--they all twisted into an impossible knot.

Kain was going to be sick.

And yet, there was the strangest sense of elation buried beneath everything else. It twined around that unreasonable guilt that plagued his every day.

How long had it been since someone verbally recognized his heritage?

Even Artemios had left the title unsaid within the last decade. The words felt too heavy to place in simple conversation--as if voicing who he was would shatter the delicate balance of his life. If the cursed prince was acknowledged, the sailor suffered.

It was easier to bury the knowledge behind weighted words and expectant eyes. Even Aretha had held her tongue beyond vague references--and he had gotten the distinct impression that the woman kept few opinions concealed.

"I wasn't certain," Alekos was saying, his thumb tracing the twin serpents of Kain's hilt. "This was enough to spark my curiosity, but not proof on its own. The moment I saw you, however, the truth was obvious. You're your mother's child."

Kain bit back a grimace. It was almost as odd to hear someone reference his mother as it was to hear the word 'prince.' Still, it was with a polite smile that Kain inclined his head in acknowledgement of what was likely an attempt at a compliment.

"Thank you. My--Artemios, he always said I resembled my father. It's comforting to know that you see my mother in me."

Curiosity flicked across the king's face as he laid Kain's sword aside. "Is your guardian with you now? I hadn't heard of anyone older in your party. I believe the report listed two women, two men, and a child."

"That is correct," Kain answered, hesitation flicking through his mind. "Apologizes if you were hoping to meet him."

"No, that's fine," Alekos said with a wave of his hand. "I should be content with this much. Imagine my shock to hear that I've someone of your position held in my dungeons. I'm not sure if I could have handled having the famed Artemios as well."

Famed? "He'd be flattered to hear you think so much of him."

Alekos snorted. "More likely he'd be rolling his eyes and demanding release. That old man never had much patience."

Hesitation held Kain's curious tongue for a moment. There were far more important things he should ask the king. The topic of their release, or of Kyril's mistreatment, they were easy examples. But, somehow, it was Artemios that he longed to hear of. Despite the time that had passed since the downfall of the Airlea, Kain's heart still stung.

If Alekos called him famed, perhaps he would know the truth.

"You met him," Kain pressed.

Alekos studied Kain with a thoughtful smile. It warmed his expression as he templed his hands in his lap.

"A few times, yes. When I was young he and his lover stayed in Sol for several months. My father hosted them without telling us of who they were. Imagine our shock when the two disappeared one day, and most of the staff seemed to have forgotten the entire event. Not a single one of them could even recall her face. He explained it, then. I think Akaikos near fainted. Afterwards, of course, he claimed he'd known all along."

The world tilted. Artemios had a lover?

It rightened with logic. Of course Artemios had a lover. He was an old sailor--it would be stranger if he hadn't met someone in his long life, especially if he was as old as those letters had implied.

Why hadn't Kain heard of her? Why hadn't he met her? Had she passed, or had Artemios avoided broaching the issue for some other reason?

Did it have anything to do with Kain being shoved into his care?

"I don't think I ever met her," Kain admitted when Alekos paused.

The king pursed his lips, then shrugged with a light smile. "I would think that odd, but the old tales do say the goddess sometimes goes decades without visiting. She is the epitome of travel after all."

The goddess of travel.

The goddess.

The words hung in Kain's mind like an anchor. They weighted his thoughts, and refused to budge even as his mind struggled to make sense of the mess.

Artemios' lover was a god.

And not just any god, but the one most infamous for avoiding recognition. Eiyuuk, the goddess of travel, romanticism, and heroism. Every story he'd ever heard of the goddess told about her adventures among unknowing humans. She fought and lived like a mortal, only to disappear when the truth inevitably came to light.

A memory sprung to the front of his mind.

"You want a story?" Artemios grumbled. His hand fluffed Kain's hair as he furrowed his brow. "I'm not good at those. You should just sleep, kid."

"You're the best at them," Kain argued.

Artemios shook his head, but didn't argue. Instead, he dropped his hand to the bed and tilted his head back in thought. "I suppose I could do a legend. Anyone you have in mind?"

"Eiyuuk," Kain said. He had read several tales of her in the books Artemios handed him, but not once had the sailor told him a story himself. Even then, he frowned instead of answering.

"Why her?" Artemios sighed. "I've no good stories for Eiyuuk. How about the fates? Or one of Koun's adventures?"

Kain groaned. "You already told me those!"

"Something new. Alright. Why don't I tell you about an adventure of my own, then. Let's see... about thirteen years back. Yeah, that would work..."

Eiyuuk was the only god beyond the neutral Kikin said not to have a godly lover.

Was that because she loved a human?

"Well, as much as I would love to reflect on old tales, we've quite a situation here," Alekos said, gesturing towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Sit. We've much to discuss."

Kain felt lightheaded as he gripped the chair back. If Artemios was Eiyuuk's lover. Then, there was only one conclusion.

If Alekos was right.

If Kain had been ignorant about something so important.

Artemios was definitely alive. Eiyuuk wouldn't have let him die.

Somehow, somewhere, Artemios was alive.

Kain fell into the chair with a sudden lightness. The world seemed brighter, if not a bit off-kilter.

Artemios was alive.

And, if he was alive, what of the rest of the crew? Saul. Ancus. Kreon. Their faces flashed through his mind with dizzying force.

Kain's family had survived.

"From the accounts I've heard, your group caused trouble in a tavern," Alekos continued. His expression had drawn taut, lips pursed in disapproval. "Locals died."

Kain opened his mouth, but fell silent as Alekos raised a hand.

"The witness said your party were the ones to start it. Or, more specifically, you. Now, I find that hard to believe. I doubt someone of your stature, and your situation, would choose to draw attention to themselves in this manner. However, people have died. That can't be ignored."

The king lowered his hand, indicating he had finished. Kain drew in a deep breath, forcing his thoughts into order. Now wasn't the time to get distracted by Artemios. Lives depended on Alekos believing in them.

"It was unavoidable," Kain began. "The witnesses have lied, or been misled."

Alekos tilted his head. One of his hands sprawled across his knee cap as he crossed his legs, and waved for Kain to continue. "Then please, explain. What is the truth as you see it?"

"I and the others were seated at a table, enjoying a meal and conversation, when we heard a shout. I looked over, and discovered a man to be staring at us. Before we could question it, he said something to his friends, and fired a gun," Kain paused, his hand raising to his shoulder. "I tackled two of my party members to avoid one of them being injured. It grazed my back, and led to a fight. We were defending ourselves. I wish the deaths were avoidable, but do not regret defending my friends."

The king hummed thoughtfully, his fingers drumming against his knee. "I see. That doesn't solve the issue of the conflicting accounts."

Silence swallowed the room, and once again, Kain drew in a steadying breath. "Your Highness."

Alekos raised a brow, and Kain summoned courage from how receptive the king seemed to be. They might have lucked out when he had discovered Kain's identity. Perhaps it lended the weight to his voice needed for their appeal to work.

"The reason the witnesses lied came out when we were being held in the dungeons."

"You had a visitor," Alekos said. His voice and expression were impossible to read.

He already knew?

"Lord Levantis," Kain confirmed.

"Duke," Alekos corrected. "And, let me assume what will follow. You're going to say he either threw around his title, or his money, in order to seek the outcome he wanted."

Kain's heart skipped a beat as hope gripped him. Was the king already aware of the sort of man Kyril was?

Of course. It had to be obvious. It wasn't as if the duke had gone through any lengths to hide it in any of Kain's interactions with him.

"He told me as much."

Alekos sighed, and Kain's hope fell away.

"You've put me in a rough position, boy."

He grimaced. "I kno--"

"The duke may be an ass, but he is here for important business," Alekos interrupted. Kain coughed, choking his own breath. Had the king truly said that?

"If I go around accusing him of lying about something like this, a case which most of the nobility won't even care about until his name is dragged into it, it could endanger the reasons for his visit. If the talks fall through as a result, it would cause numerous issues, as well as threaten our neutrality. The state of his nation rests on our relationship with national powers. Insulting Aeolis through their ambassador would endanger that relationship."

The room seemed to chill with each word that the king said. It seemed Kyril wasn't wrong about the importance his name carried. Not all of it had been groundless vanity. The king was hoping for the duke's ear.

Even so...

If wasn't an outright refusal to help him, Kain realized. Alekos was naming the danger, not turning him down.

"He wishes to have us executed," Kain pressed. "What I told you was the truth. I swear by the gods, it is the truth. We've done nothing but defend ourselves. Having me executed based on false accounts would also damage your reputation. My grandfather would not stand for it if he heard."

He was relieved when Alekos' expression turned thoughtful rather than insulted. There had been a danger the king would read a threat in Kain's words, not persuasion. Alekos seems more reasonable than rumor would have him be.

"You are not wrong," Alekos agreed. He stroked his chin, fingers once again drumming against his knee. "Thankfully, I had reached a similar conclusion before I had you called here. And, I've thought of a solution."

Kain stilled. He had?

"It will require you to stay here for some time," Alekos continued. "But, I imagine that's preferable to execution."

He swallowed as unease split ice into his veins. "How long?"

"A month at the latest. You see, our truthsayer is away from court."

A truthsayer. Of course.

It was a common practice that had slipped Kain's stressed mind. In upper courts, or smaller if they could afford them, it wasn't uncommon for a harpy or faerie to be hired to mediate cases. Both could read the truth of an account in their own ways.

Harpies could sense the blood on someone's hands, and the injustice in their words. But, they rarely "lowered" themselves to human courts. The amount of money that might be exchanged behind the scenes, and the inequality of power in laws tended to rub the children of Taisol the wrong way. They were justice seekers, and in many places of the world, justice rarely found those without the power to have their voice matter.

More often, it was a faerie who would be called.

While they couldn't directly sense the truth of a statement, they could sense the emotion of it, or even the thoughts going through the witnesses' mind. Not every faerie was capable of telepathy, but the most powerful always were. It made them expensive, but near infallible.

A truthsayer was always believed. If they said Kain and the others were innocent, no one could argue it--not even Kyril with all his money and power.

"All it would take is a quiet word to the judge that they should involve her in the trial, and the truth will come out. If what you told me is the heart of the matter, you'll be free to go. If it is not, then I'm afraid..." the king trailed off with a shrug. "The matter would be out of my hands. I can't be seen as a king who ignores the law for my own interests. But, you aren't lying, correct?"

Alekos gave him a scrutinizing stare, and Kain nodded. "I'm not."

"Good, then the issue is settled. You'll stay until the truthsayer returns. I'll have someone ready a room. I imagine you were hoping for anonymity? It'll be easy enough to arrange, although rumors are inevitable."

The king reached to a shelf behind him, picking up a bell Kain hadn't noticed. He shook it, sending a soft trill through the air. A shiver racked Kain's spine.

A month in Sol.

Gods, what would that do to their travel time? They were slow as it was. Was it worth arguing?

"Is there no one else who could be hired?" Kain ventured.

Alekos frowned, his hand stilling. "Why? Is my court distasteful? Or were you wanting to stay in the dungeons?"

The air suddenly seemed thick with tension, and Kain carefully shook his head. "No, not at all. We're...in a hurry, is all. We were merely passing through when this happened."

The king shrugged in response, and Kain's shoulders slowly relaxed. He suddenly understood why Artemios had always warned him about the thin line of temper to walk with nobility. Anything could be read as an insult if one wasn't careful.

"All the more reason to wait," Alekos replied, dismissal in his tone. "A prince of your position, it's unlikely you've ever enjoyed the privilege of your station." Amusement twisted his lips. "The inn you were staying in will look like a hovel in comparison to what I'm offering."

"So, stay, and enjoy, and in time you'll be free to leave."

Sensing further argument would only lead to the king feeling insulted, Kain held his tongue in silent agreement.

"I'll keep a hold of your sword until then. I'm sure you understand that I can't have you wandering around armed given the situation. It'll be odd enough that I'm allowing you any freedom at all."

It wasn't until a servant arrived, and led Kain away from the office that he realized there was one, final question he should have asked. It sprung to life as his thoughts spun around the entire exchange, latching onto a single wording that had slipped his frazzled mind.

The last prince of Cieon.

The last.

That title wasn't supposed to be his. It belonged to Del, his mother's youngest brother.

If Kain was the last prince...

Where was Del? 

A/N: Dun Dun Dun

But not really because you guys already know what is going on with Del. But, he's not the focus of this chapter. 

What do you guys think? Any opinions on Alekos? Do you think Kain is making the right choice in backing down from the argument, or should he have pressed the issue? 

What about Artemios? Surprised? Happy? 

See you next week~ We'll be revisiting Iliana when the time arrives, so I hope you're ready for that.